Aisling, Idris, and Fenja carefully descended using thick vines to avoid slipping on the mossy, damp walls. They landed heavily in a dark chamber, the stifling smell of stagnant mud and mildew filling their noses, suffocating and oppressive. Idris lit a makeshift torch using a resin-soaked branch, and its dim glow illuminated the vast ruined hall before them, overrun with bioluminescent fungi glowing in vivid greens and pale blues.

They ventured further into what appeared to be an ancient temple, submerged in water and shrouded by time, each step faintly echoing on the wet stone. Fenja, already alert, had an arrow nocked and ready, while Idris, sword in hand, moved ahead, scanning every corner for danger. Aisling followed in the middle, slightly behind, accompanied by Nimue, whose spectral glow illuminated small alcoves and passageways as they progressed.

The corridors they explored were labyrinthine, frequently leading to dead ends, collapsed walls, or passages blocked by massive stone debris. With each turn, the atmosphere grew heavier, their damp clothes clinging to their skin as the humid heat bore down on them. Ancient traps were occasionally visible—deep pits lined with rusted spikes and skeletal remains turned to dust, silent witnesses of a bloody past. Sometimes, a slightly depressed floor tile marked where a trap had been sprung long ago. The place seemed abandoned, yet its oppressive silence suggested they were not alone, as if hidden eyes watched their every move from the shadows.

"We're going in circles," sighed Idris after a while, frustration evident in his voice. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and nervously raked his fingers through his damp hair.

Fenja examined the mud-covered walls and roots with her sharp gaze.

"If the seed is here, it's likely in the submerged part…" she murmured, her eyes narrowing at the stagnant water blocking part of the temple.

As they returned to a vast, round chamber, Aisling suddenly halted. She narrowed her eyes, concentrating, and began stepping lightly in place, raising and lowering her feet in a rhythmic pattern. A strange sound echoed faintly—a resonance that didn't match the depth of the other hallways.

She retraced her steps, jumped lightly, and listened intently to the echo.

"What the…?" Idris tilted his head, confused.

Fenja silenced him with a raised hand, her eyes focused.

"There's something below," she confirmed, her brows furrowing. "And it's not water. If it were submerged, the sound wouldn't resonate like that."

Kneeling, Aisling drew a small dagger, one she typically used for harvesting medicinal plants. With meticulous movements, she outlined the edges of one of the stone slabs, scraping away years of accumulated dust, moss, and grime. The temple's stifling atmosphere made each motion feel heavier, as if the very air resisted their efforts. When she managed to wedge her dagger beneath the slab, Idris knelt beside her, using the thick blade of his sword as a lever.

With a dull thud, the slab slowly lifted. Together, they heaved it aside, revealing what lay beneath—a gaping opening leading to a spiral staircase descending into darkness. Unlike the rest of the ruins, the passage seemed dry—a rarity in the swampy temple.

Without wasting time, they repeated the process, carefully lifting more slabs to widen the opening. There was likely a mechanism to open this staircase, but they opted for the manual approach. The sun outside was beginning to set, its golden rays casting eerie, elongated shadows that heightened the sense of unease.

Once the opening was wide enough for them to descend, Fenja decided to head back into the jungle to retrieve more vines. As she ventured outside, a strange sensation washed over her. She slowed her pace, a shiver running down her spine. Faint, furtive movements whispered among the massive trees and thick ferns. Then she felt it—a heavier presence, something large, something close. And that suffocating feeling of being watched grew almost unbearable. She cautiously retreated to rejoin the others, her expression tense.

"We need to hurry," she whispered upon returning to the uncovered passage.

Without question, they began descending cautiously into the spiral staircase, the oppressive heat and darkness enveloping them with every step. Their movements echoed softly against the stone walls. But then, a dull thud above them made them freeze—a heavy impact in the chamber they had just left.

They looked up and froze in place. Through the opening they had cleared in the stone slabs—the only natural light source piercing the crushing darkness of the staircase—a face appeared.

Two eyes, gleaming like mirrors, stared at them intently. Whatever was watching them had to be massive, easily the size of two men. Its reptilian features were unnerving: no nose, a mouth stretching from ear to ear in a terrifying, almost sadistic grin. Its slick, scaly skin glistened faintly in the dim light.

Aisling, Idris, and Fenja remained motionless, paralyzed with fear, their breaths shallow and silent. None dared to move. Nimue, trembling with nerves, darted to Aisling, clutching her shoulder in distress.

Then, as if mocking their terror, the creature's grin widened even further, revealing four rows of razor-sharp, pointed teeth. Aisling's heart pounded violently in her chest, and an icy shiver ran down her spine.

Additional sounds echoed above them, as if other massive creatures were moving across the stone floor they had just left behind. Aisling murmured in an almost inaudible whisper.

"Run."

Without another thought, the three friends bolted down the spiral staircase, their breaths quick and labored. More of the creatures swarmed into the opening they had created, crawling along the ceiling and walls. Their footsteps echoed heavily in the narrow stone passage as darkness enveloped them the further they descended. Finally, they reached a long hallway that led them to an antechamber, relatively dry compared to the swampy galleries of the temple. But there was no time to admire the surroundings. Behind them, the furious hissing of the creatures grew louder, their glowing eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight.

Hearts pounding, they sprinted to the back of the antechamber, only to be stopped short by an imposing gate. The only way to lift it was through an ancient mechanism, a massive cogwheel attached to thick ropes.

"Aisling, get that damn gate open!" Idris shouted as he took position in front of her, sword at the ready. "Fenja and I will hold them off!"

Fenja, already poised, nocked an arrow and fired with precision. One of the creatures fell from the ceiling with a pitiful screech, crashing heavily to the floor. Idris stood firm, gripping his sword tightly, ready to slash at any threat that approached. Meanwhile, Aisling and Nimue rushed to the wheel. They threw all their strength into turning it, but the aged mechanism was painfully heavy. Each rotation was a grueling effort, and time seemed to slip away too quickly.

Idris and Fenja fought ferociously. At first, the creatures came one by one, but they soon overwhelmed Idris. Fenja covered him with her arrows, taking down those attempting to catch him off guard.

"Aisling! Not to rush you, but it's getting urgent!" Idris shouted with grim humor as his sword cleaved through another creature.

Aisling, panting and trembling with exertion, groaned under the effort, her arms shaking as she struggled to turn the wheel. Suddenly, a thick, viscous liquid dripped onto her arm. Nimue and Aisling looked up simultaneously. Directly above them, one of the reptilian creatures leered hungrily, its thin, forked tongue slowly extending from its maw, ready to strike.

The creature pounced.

A gunshot rang out, and the monster collapsed at their feet, its head pierced clean through. Aisling startled, then turned to the far end of the hallway where a raven swooped down, gouging out the eyes of another creature. Four massive figures followed, cutting through the horde with brutal efficiency.

The Horsemen.

If Aisling had any lingering grievances against them, they vanished in an instant, replaced by sheer relief. Strife struck down another overly bold creature and quipped.

"Why are these things always so ugly?"

Then, catching sight of Aisling, Idris, and Fenja, he gave them a ridiculous salute.

"Oh, great! You're not dead!"

War and Death were already deep in the carnage, cutting down the monsters with terrifying precision. Fury, advancing with confidence, cleaved through the mass of creatures to reach the trio.

"Come on, we'll take ca—!"

But before she could finish, one of the beasts lunged at her. Without hesitation, she killed it with a clean strike of her whip, its skull shattering before another replaced it.

Aisling had no time to waste. She gripped the wheel once more, her hands clamping down on the rough handles as she turned with all her might. Idris and Fenja continued holding off the creatures, gradually retreating toward her as the Horsemen cleared the area.

"It's taken us hours to get to this point and they arrive in ten minutes?" Idris exclaims, as if offended.

"The Four won't let us continue," Fenja murmured as she shot another creature attempting to close in on Idris.

"I know," Aisling replied through gritted teeth.

They all understood. Determination flashed in their eyes. At last, the gate rose high enough for them to slip through.

"Now!" Aisling shouted.

Idris sheathed his sword and ran to hold the wheel steady as Aisling and Fenja slipped to the other side. Then, he quickly followed, Aisling straining to hold the mechanism for him to pass.

But Death, realizing their plan, ruthlessly dispatched his foes with one brutal swing of his scythe and sprinted toward the gate.

Aisling, her hands trembling, released the wheel just before the Pale Rider could reach them. The gate slammed shut with a heavy thud, but she didn't move back fast enough. Death's hand shot through the bars, seizing her wrist in an iron grip, his cold, burning gaze boring into hers.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled, his voice like ice.

At that moment, a deafening sound echoed through the hallway. A guttural, powerful roar shook the walls, and the creatures erupted in shrieks of glee. Another sound, like breaking stone, followed. A massive reptilian figure, far larger than anything they had faced, emerged into the chamber, roaring in fury.

"Definitely not a squirrel…" Idris muttered.

Death turned away briefly at the monster's arrival. Seizing the moment of distraction, Aisling leaned forward and bit down with all her strength on the arm holding her, just above the gauntlet, hard enough to taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. The Horseman released her, more out of surprise than pain.

"Sorry!" she murmured before fleeing with her friends, chaos resuming behind them.

The cries of battle echoed in their ears as they ran, their throats tight and hearts pounding.

At the end of the corridor, a soft, flickering light beckoned, signaling another room. The three friends stumbled into a smaller, almost square chamber, its ancient stone walls marked by the passage of time. In the center, a luminous pool of water radiated an unnatural brilliance. The liquid shimmered with an intense glow, casting dancing reflections onto the walls like flickering flames, their beauty mesmerizing. At its center stood a small stone platform elevated above the water. Atop this platform, a modest yet imposing pedestal bore a sealed chest.

"Could it be…?" Fenja asked, her voice tinged with fascination and caution.

Before she could finish, feral cries rang out from the corridor they had just left. The reptilian creatures were closing in again, furious and bloodthirsty. Idris drew his sword in one swift motion, the pool's light glinting off the naked blade. He turned to Aisling, his expression grave but resolute.

"Get the seed. We'll buy you time."

Aisling swallowed hard, her heart racing frantically. Adrenaline surged through her veins, and fear tightened her throat, but she nodded silently. Idris and Fenja were already turning back to the entrance to face what was coming, leaving Aisling alone with Nimue, who flitted nervously around her.

She stepped cautiously toward the pool, her feet slipping slightly on the damp stone. She could swim to the platform—it was only a few meters away—but the incandescent blue water seemed both inviting and perilous. Instinctively, Aisling knew she mustn't enter it.

"What do you seek here?"

Suddenly, a voice echoed through the chamber, reverberating off the walls and filling the space. Neither masculine nor feminine, it was ethereal and enveloping, seeming to emanate from everywhere and nowhere at once. It carried an ageless quality, as though it rose from the earth's very depths.

Aisling jumped, her eyes darting around the room, but she saw no one. The chamber remained empty save for the shimmering water and the chest on its pedestal.

"Who… who's there?" she stammered, her throat dry.

There was no sound except her own labored breathing now, the sounds of battle seemed to have vanished, but the voice spoke again, closer this time, as though brushing against her mind.

"What do you seek here?"

Aisling took a deep breath, fighting back her nerves. She clenched her fists, her swirling thoughts gradually settling.

"I'm here… I'm here to retrieve the seed of the Tree of Life."

A profound silence fell, so deep it was almost deafening. Then the voice spoke again, calm but piercing.

"Why do you seek it?"

Aisling felt her heartbeat quicken, not from fear this time, but from the weight of responsibility. She raised her head, her resolve hardening.

"To replant the Tree. To restore the Earth. To save humanity."

The silence stretched, heavy and unbroken, until the voice spoke once more, now sharp with cold detachment.

"Why does humanity deserve to be saved?"

Aisling blinked, startled by the question. She opened her mouth to reply, but the voice cut her off abruptly.

"Look."

In that instant, the luminous water in the center of the room flared brightly, as if imbued with sudden vitality. The dancing reflections on the walls solidified, forming vivid, precise images.

Aisling instinctively stepped back, but her gaze remained fixed on the unfolding visions. She saw wars—men and women slaughtering each other, battlefields awash in rivers of blood. Entire civilizations reduced to ashes, genocides laid bare, humanity's cruelty on full display. Power-hungry leaders commanding the annihilation of cities, families torn apart, children crying, their faces etched with pain and fear.

"They destroy everything they touch. They invade, they consume, they leave only ruin in their wake. Humanity has done nothing but condemn itself."

Aisling stood frozen, her throat tight.

"This isn't…" she began, then stopped, searching for her words. "This isn't all we are."

The voice let out a deep, disembodied laugh, like the distant rumble of a storm.

"Wars, suffering, entire civilizations destroyed for futile ideas. Why save them?"

The images in the pool shifted again. This time, Aisling saw scenes of pollution, ravaged ecosystems, forests reduced to ashes, animal species hunted to extinction. Humanity pillaging the Earth, exploiting resources, destroying everything in its path in an insatiable quest for growth and power.

Aisling's legs trembled. It was as though the voice had taken humanity's worst aspects and projected them in front of her, forcing her to confront what she tried to ignore.

"We… we've made mistakes," she admitted, her voice shaking. "But that doesn't mean we deserve to be condemned."

"They've had their chances, time and time again. They've failed every time. Why not let them disappear and allow another form of life to take their place? After all, death is the nature of things."

Aisling clenched her fists, trying to gather her thoughts. She took a deep breath, seeking the strength to respond, recalling her conversation with Samyaza.

"Because we can change," she said, more firmly this time. "Yes, we've made mistakes. But we're also capable of great things. Of compassion, of love, of creativity. We have the potential to learn from our failures."

The voice was silent, but Aisling could feel its judgment bearing down on her. The images in the water shifted again, this time showing individual acts of violence: murders, abuse, betrayals among loved ones, lies that destroyed lives.

"You speak of compassion?" the voice rumbled. "Even among yourselves, you destroy each other. You respect neither life nor truth. Your world is ruled by hatred, mistrust, and destruction."

Aisling closed her eyes for a moment, focusing. She had to find the right words, to show that humanity wasn't doomed. She thought of those she loved, of everything they had achieved together. Then she opened her eyes, determined.

"What you show is only part of who we are," she countered. "We are capable of the worst, but we are also capable of the best. Love, art, science—all of these prove our ability to rise above destruction."

She stepped closer to the pool, staring into the shimmering water.

"Every great civilization has its shadows," she continued. "But it's in the struggle against those shadows that we find our true strength. We've failed, but we've also succeeded at times. We've created wonders, we've loved, we've dreamed of better worlds. You can't judge us solely by our worst actions."

The voice remained silent for a moment, as if in thought.

"And if you fail again? If, despite your hopes, you fall back into the darkness you claim to flee?"

Aisling drew a deep breath. This was the heart of the matter—the doubt, the uncertainty.

"We might fail," she admitted. "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. If we abandon our values, our ideals… then yes, we wouldn't deserve to be saved."

She raised her eyes to the casket atop the pedestal.

"If we give up now, we'll be doomed never to change, never to evolve. But as long as we have the ability to choose, as long as we can still fight, there's hope. Maybe we won't succeed the first time. Maybe we'll fail again. But it's our attempts, our struggle to be better, that define us."

Nimue, silent until now, spoke softly.

"If humanity doesn't deserve a second chance, then who does?"

A long silence fell over the room, the voice seeming to weigh their words. The dancing reflections in the pool slowed, almost serene, while Aisling stood there, facing her own despair but also her determination.

Finally, the voice spoke, softer this time.

"Would you give your life for them?"

Aisling said nothing, but words echoed in her mind:

"Freedom comes with a price."

Her heart pounded wildly, but she didn't let fear overwhelm her.

"Yes."

"Aisling, wait…" Nimue reached a hand toward her, eyes widening in terror.

"Yes. I would give my life."

The young healer repeated her answer, louder this time, resolute. A deafening silence filled the room, as if the world itself were holding its breath.

"Very well," the voice murmured softly. "Prove it."

With a low rumble, the stones of the pool began to rise slowly, forming a path across the luminous waters. The air seemed to hum around her, charged with the same tension as the moments before a storm. Aisling took a deep breath and, with trembling but determined steps, cautiously advanced onto the stones floating above the pool.

Each step felt heavier than the last, as though an invisible force pressed down on her shoulders. She finally reached the pedestal at the center of the pool. The modest-looking casket rested atop it, but the aura it emanated was palpable, as if the entire room revolved around this singular object.

Aisling extended her hand, hesitant. She took another breath, then gently opened the casket. Inside, nestled within a worn velvet lining, lay a seed. Thumb-sized and strangely beautiful, it seemed to glow softly, as though it held an unfathomable energy. The dancing light of the water reflected off it, enhancing its otherworldly brilliance.

Her heart clenched in her chest. This was it—the Seed of the Tree of Life. Infinity contained within a grain of sand.

A sense of déjà vu passed over her, leaving her momentarily perplexed. She had seen this before. She had dreamed it. A tree. What happened next? She remembered something… painful. But before she could react, the voice spoke one final time, laden with somber gravity.

"I hope you never regret your choice."

Suddenly, the seed began to glow brighter, emitting a deep hum. Then, without warning, it shot up into the air and hurtled straight toward Aisling. Before she could react, the seed pierced her chest with blinding speed.

An unbearable pain tore through her, stealing her breath. It was as though a searing blade had driven through her, rending flesh and bone. A silent scream formed in her throat, but no sound escaped. A flash of white blinded her, and she fell to her knees, wracked with violent tremors.

She felt something spreading within her, winding through her muscles, coiling around her ribs, twisting around her heart and lungs. Every breath became a struggle, as if the air refused to enter. Her hands clawed at her throat, desperately searching for relief.

The pain was so intense that time and space ceased to exist. Her vision blurred, the room around her fading into a haze. She sensed movement—shadows rushing toward her. Voices multiplied, shouting her name, but she couldn't understand them. Her body convulsed one final time, and her vision went completely dark.

Then… nothing.

Just absolute silence.